wienerdog tricks.

I Have More to Say about the T-shirt ---> Scarf Remake.

I know I have talked with you about this already. 

But I have more to say: first, because I think the last time I told you about what I was doing (cutting up an old shirt and turning it into a very cute, very comfy jersey-weight scarf) my efforts yielded a result akin to something that chased Scooby and Shaggy through a haunted kitchen: namely, it was mummy-ish.

So, New Piece of Advice #1 about turning t-shirts into scarves is this: don't use a white t-shirt. There seems to be no avoiding the whole mummy affect. Trust me here, people.

I have also, since that early effort, learned that these t-shirt scarves need to be plenty long and plenty wide, otherwise they plain old languish in one's scarf basket (all sidled up next to, but never truly included in the club of one's scarves). The skinny, short ones just never make the out-the-door cut. They are worn very, very often in front of the mirror, but then they don't make the cut.

So, in light of all this amazing new insight, I have put together a very-easy-to-follow tutorial for those of you who'd like to give this solid beginner project a Go.

It's right here: "Turn a T-shirt Into a Scarf. It's Easy and You'll Be Cute: A Tutorial."

It takes only a men's XL t-shirt, some scissors (or a rolling blade to make it go really lickety-split), contrasing thread and the ability to sew a baker's dozen straight lines. No problems here, people: just super cute happiness. Like bunnies and unicorns and cheese: fluffy good news everywhere you look.

I got the t-shirt I used at a thrift store, but I'm not gonna tell your husband if you steal a shirt right outta his drawer.

The Re-Done Re-Do + Alice vs. Carol

I took another swipe at a bag whose soul I've loved (but whose actual, bagg-ish SELF has been bugging).

It was, in its first of all lives, an army bag (whose strap I hacked)
+ a piece of cut-up army parachute pants + a wide strip of old polyester. The strap was too wide, though.

I knew I needed to lose the strap, and I've been dying to keep messing with all those seatbelts I got from the nice guy at the salvage yard, plus I've been messing around with Fray, as I've mentioned. 

So I took a long scrap from a gorgeous big hunk of vintage cotton that my best buddy bought me from an actual antique mall (quelle upscale-ioso) of wonderful black daisies on an army green and mute yellow background--wow.it looks a lot cuter than it sounds--and cut a strip, sewed it face-down down the middle of the cut seatbel strap and then folded the ends over so the colored side would be showing and sewed two more lines. And ta da: Fray Up the Middle. Little Bear's Porridge: Just Right. And I gave it plenty of flair with some little buttery lemon yellow old polyester binding ends.

Reattaching the stamped piece from the old strap to the front of the bag was a total pain in the hookey, as it turned out. I tried this:

As you can imagine, I wasn't terribly successful. So I've resorted to my first-ever iron-on sort of business, and so far it's working. 

 The stamped bit speaks to the tension--unaddressed in the series, but still Clearly There--between Alice and Carol on the Brady Bunch.

Alice was there first, the first lady of the Brady House. The First Brady Lady. Then Carol showed up, usurping Alice of her rightful FBL role. I've always thought this. Hence:

I mean, hello--the absolute Theft of her Role, an identity theft of sorts. It was hard on Alice. I always saw it behind her eyes (and up in her hairdo). Accordingly, it drove her to drink. And in to the arms of another man. (Goodbye, stable recently-widowed Father of Three, Hello bourbon-sipping Butcher/Bowler.)

Need I say more? Exactly.

I like my purse in its new form. And I like telling the world what it was Really Like to Be Alice.

Thing for Me #7: Messenger (Mid-Way)

This is a Sew Sew Selfish Month update.

I made this:

 

(Think of this next shot as on the setting that Barbara Streisand used to have photos taken of herself during her Star Is Born years):

 
Something's not right. And I think it's the edges that are bothering me. And the straps, maybe. So I took it apart:

This isn't my first messenger bag. I made this one for the Man Spouse for Christmas:

 

(The innards):

And this one at Christmastime for a dear friend:

 

(The innards):

I think I want the edges on the one I'm making right now to look more finished. So I'm going to try some sort of piping or something when I put it back together. And I'm going to make it skinnier so that it's DAINTIER.  Might even cut the whole bag down so it's just a little smaller. Hmmm. Haven't solved the straps problem yet, but might go back to what I did here with an old seatbelt (a trip to the junk yard's not such a bad idea, really.)

Sometimes Making involves Un-Making. And if you're not sure what I mean (or, really, even if you are), go over here and see this. You'll nod. You'll gasp. You'll shake your head. And then you'll think deep thoughts about Making including Un-Making that you never thought before. 

And of course you'll be the first to hear when I stop all this Un-Making and put the messenger bag back together.

The Tshirt: As Underappreciated as the Sandwich.

I have long said that the sandwich is the most underappreciated food genre. And let's just say, if you believe this, you're missing out. Seriously missing out.

And so I'd compare the humble tshirt to the humble sandwich in its abilities to transform a wardrobe . . .if you're, willing to refashion IT. 

So, after working to turn a long, fitted tshirt out of a big boxy man's tshirt, here's what I've come up with. Because I'm looking for length. (Don't want the old butt crackola to show. Don't want to share my belly button. Don't want to be tugging my clothing down as I jobg through my day. Just don't.) But I don't want to give up fit either, so here's what I've got so far:

And while this may look like an ever-so-slightly pathetic stack, please know that it represents a small handful of successes and also a FAT stack of screw ups. There's a lot of ways to go wrong in the t-shirt redo. Who knew?

So, here's my hard won tshirt redo wisdom:

1. One of the things I've realized about being a Tshirt Wearer is that it's all in the shoulders. Seriously. If the shirt fits you in the shoulders, it looks SIGNIFICANTLY less like you're that girl trying to pull off a gym shirt for work. And SIGNIFICANTLY less like you've raided your brother's/husband's/son's closet to get dressed. I've looked around the INTERWEB for tutorials and really, this quick little pdf is the best bet for wrapping your brain around how to reattach shoulders--which ISN'T as tricky as it sounds. You really just cut the thing open like a fish and then reassemble it.

See--this is one I'm working on today--it's a boxy boohoo of a men's shirt that looks like a boohoo when I put it on.

Light wash denim and white tennies anyone? But when I cut the sleeves off and flay the whole thing open and reattach them closer in so that they line up with my real shoulders, it will be a babe shirt. I swear.

2. Don't risk poking yourself to an early death with pins, just find a tshirt that you like in the snugness department and use it. I've copied one of these to death and it's working for me nicely.

3. Pay attention to the flexola of the fabric. One of the ways that I've screwed up OVER AND OVER is to cut the shirt too small. My original is made of a wonderfully stretch cotton and so when I'm working on a stiffer, less stretchy fabric, I put the thing on and it's like I've turned myself into a full blown sausage. Pretty. If your original has lots of give, then make allowances if the one you're working with doesn't.

4. Don't stop now. Think outside the tshirt box for tshirts.I'm starting to work on old men's polo shirts. You know:

 

Nice dragon, Sears. I have not mastered these. Am still working on the florkiness of the sleeve. Think I just need to make it more form fitting--which is just a little extra seam down the one that's there and a clip clip.

5. Look on the men's shirt racks. We don't have enough time to talk here about how for some reason used women's tshirts are all balled up and nasty. And shrunken. And wonked. For some reasons, men's tshirts are less this way in my extensive thrift shopping experience. I think it's the fabric they start out as. PLUS you can get the length you need out of a men's tshirt without having to sew some weird looking extra panel on the bottom.

6. Use the stretch stitch setting on your machine. I'm in love with this stictch. If you've got it, it's perfect for this project.

Start cutting, girls. And report back on your success. (And, as always, if everything I've said here makes no sense, then tell me and I'll say it again better. This tshirt-redo thing is CRUCIAL for us thrifters. Just saying.)

In Praise of the Ostracized Duvet.

We never give these puppies away because they're so freaking expensive. AND they're made of really nice fabric that we like. AND what if we buy a much bigger house and someday have three guest rooms and might need a bed cover and we'll be able to decorate an entire room around the duvet cover. OR maybe someday we'll change our minds and really like the look of the thing on the bed. EVEN THOUGH all five times we've given it a go, we've hated it.

So they live in the backs of our linen closets. Staring at us about someday. Mocking us for keeping something pretty pent up and hidden. 

So cut 'em up, sistahs. Have at it with the scissors. I'm telling you it is a huge thrill to cut up something expensive. This probably speaks to the same part of me that likes to watch ice skating just because at any moment someone might fall down wearing a fancy lycra outfit.

But I've had two great successes with duvet re-purposing. First, I made curtains for my friend's ENTIRE HOUSE out of a couple of beautiful linen duvets she had hiding in the back forty of her linen closet. That was early this summer. (That cutie pie hanging over the window was actually a linen table runner I chopped in half and sewed curtain rod loops for. Like taking a candy curtain from a baby.)

Then just a couple of weeks ago I finally conquered the Nothing-at-Bed-Bath-And Boogeyman-Matches-the-Puke-Pink-Bathroom-Tile-My-House-Came-With Dillemma I've been boggled by for the past year and a half with a big gorgeous, funky duvet cover a friend gave me from her stash. (She got it at a garage sale thinking she'd use it someday . . .)

I even made curtains to go with (and I mixed it with an irish linen tea towel with game birds on it that I've bee hoarding like Gollum).

A couple of words about cutting up and re-using duvet covers for house projects:

1. Don't be afraid to use existing seams. These things tend to be sturdily constructed (sort of because the whole concept of a cover to cover up a cover is a skoshe high-end to begin with) and so I say never re-sew what's just perfectly fine as it is. Re-use existing hems where you can.

2. Don't feel the need to be too fancy. I had great luck letting the beautiful fabric do the talking in both of my curtain-making projects (for windows big and small, and for the shower). I did add a small detail to the shower curtain just by playing with the direction of the fabric. Nothing life-changing but it added some interest. And I mixed it up with the smaller bathroom curtain. But with the big stuff (large window curtains and shower curtains) it's okay to let it just be about the fabric.

3. Remember to have a really good time when you're cutting it up. Come on--when did you get to do this as a kid? Never. You're a grown up and if you want to cut up something expensive, then you can. Just because you said so. Don't miss the moment.

Good times with scissors, expensive material and filling an otherwise exhausting-to-shop-for house need.

Gardening Apron. You need one.

So I made this gardening apron for a sweet friend and it's turned out to be one of my favorite aprons ever. C'mon. How cute is it anyways? Yeesh.

It's, of course, made from just scraps, really. The main panel is from a seriously-old piece of oil-cloth-ish material I thrifted; the ties are still-yet more fabric from my re-do of the army parachute pants; and the pockets are off a pair of my son's blown-out jeans.

So I've put together a how-to so that everybody can share in the gardening apron good times. Just click over here: Easy Peasy Gardening Apron.

I've made a small stack of gardening aprons (like this one for my friend who really wants to be a flower farmer) from that wonderful book A is For Apron--which, if you don't already own or haven't checked out from the library yet, you really should. It's loads of fun. 

I've liked them, but found the pocket trickier than somebody just starting to sew would probably want to mess with. And I'm partial to the wrap-around-the-front tie. And also, I like to cut up and re-use clothes. So, this is my version. Kudos to the other one too. 

Plus--how fun is it to use old jeans? Especially in a way that maybe doesn't scream I USED OLD JEANS (which is always my beef about projects that use old jeans.) This little number is the perfect storm of Refashion and Scrap Use, my two favorite Sewing Categories.

Go make one, eh?

NOW It's Finished.

"Alice never told Carol that the secret to the bubbly cheese on top was 350 for 45 minutes. (It was that easy.)"

Finally: the perfect declaration of that unspoken tension between Alice (Housekeeper Technician to the Brady Family) and Carol (wife of Mike Brady). I mean--it was always there, wasn't it? That I-Was-Here-First vibe Alice was always hiding behind that mask of a grin. . . . I always sensed it. We thought Alice was leaving with Sam to go bowling. Please. They were throwing them back at some seedy Thousand Oaks bar. Alice, three whiskeys in, "She doesn't even know how to melt cheeeeeeeese." (slurred.)

And now the truth is declared on my this-week Purse that will be my next-week Sewing Bag.

Now it's finished.

Army Parachute(r) Pants Double Re-Do.

They're pants for parachuters, not parachute pants. Think Navy Seal, not M.C. Hammer.

 

I've had these lovely pants--so cool. They're REAL--for at least ten years. 

 

 

Who knows how they arrived. I remember the moment when I discovered them in my costume bin and 'rescued" them for my closet. A sincere move, if not a particularly flattering one.

 

I just turned them into this:

 

And yes, I know you can't really tell how long the thing is (and I also know that you are staring at my war-torn backyard, which I really don't want to talk about) but trust me that it hits me right above the knee and based on my current photographic ability and, apparently, the STATE OF MY KNEES, you will not be experiencing a knee photo from me. Sorry. You'll have to come over to see.

 

Also, I used the leftover pant legs for this:

 

 

I found this cool super-pocketed army bag at a thrift store last month (as part of Totally Obsessed with Totes Month, apparently). It just need a little New Strap Love. I think I'm going to stamp out a small storyline for that fatigue part of the strap. I'll let you know how it goes.

 

P.S. Project update here. 

Bring it.

I signed up to commit my soul and self to Wardrobe Refashion's 2-month pledge.

I'm just saying. 

Can't wait to get at that big pile of ready-to-be-cuter stuff right next to my sewing machine. It practically yells at me when I go upstairs. 

This means that I'm committing to keep myself out of the retail shops (which really won't be too hard for me--I got those jeans I really wanted already) and to go at re-making everything that I can get my hands on and then posting about it. Good times.

And some of my friends are very glad that this challenge will keep me from sewing my own underwear.

 

Way Better Red Shirt.

So I took a man's total Mervyn's-esque long-sleeved waffle shirt and turned it into nicely-fitted goodness for myself.  It was a boxy mess of squared ugliness. But now it fits. I I cut off the sleeves and reattached them so that they're fitted and fancy. And I chopped the long sleeves and made them short. And I took off the ugly beige man buttons and added little ones. And I'm just saying that it's totally cute and that I am addicted to refashioning thrift store clothing for myself. I would totally commit myself here but I need to buy a new pair of jeans and I don't want to have to break a refashioning vow to buy some pants that fit my A right.

So far I have this sinking feeling that if I could just click www.gothteenager.com I'd be able to get the answers to all my refashioning questions. I just know they've had this clothing do-over thing mastered for ages. 

Anyways, while I was sewing this little red number, I was remember having these kind of pajamas when I was like 12. Yes, they did have the button flap in the back. Excellent.

Because apparently after all that Grizzly Adams, Waltons and Dukes of Hazard, I found myself wanting to dress like these guys:

Good one.

I'm not lame.

Well, sometimes I am--at like surfing and making french pastry. But I'm not lame at turning men's t-shirts into scarfs (I am, btw, sort of a conscientious objector to the plural scarves. I don't know it's just so Everybody's Mom to say scarves.) And my picture from yesterday makes it look like I am. Here's a better one (modeled by none other than my favorite uber-hysterical-foodie, her):

I know you kind of want me to make you one now. Plus, here's today's attempt at men's-tshirt-re-creation. It doesn't have the ruffly edges and it's skinnier.  

Him (the resident 6-and-11/12ths-year old): Did you make this? Can I keep it? He was tying it on robber-style like 2 minutes after I took this picture. He's good that way. 

But I'm so keeping it for myself. I know: lame.

Diet, exercise and undergarments.

I totally love books. Duh. I am a particularly big fan of the library. Double duh. But now Double Nerd too.

Today's "put on hold" pick up from the library was Perfect Fit, this totally crack up early eighties tailoring book from Singer because I was thrifting this week (which is my favorite pastime of all time, even sometimes ahead of  . . . yep. Actually, it's ahead of everything because I can't think of what it's not ahead of) . . . and I had this complete and total revelation in the thrift store that if I could not only SEW but actually TAILOR then I could buy all the cool boxy men's shirts that I like so much but that make me look like a tasteless linebacker and then MAKE THEM FIT ME. 

This probably was already obvious to you. Duh. I know. I can't believe it took me so long to figure out.

So I'm reading up on tailoring because I found this unbelievable 100% silk men's overcoat in black and white herringbone that I am going to transform into nutty goodness for myself.

It will take me probably approximately until my 1 year old is in 11th grade, so check back.

In the meantime, check out what I did to a XXL men's t-shirt. Before: army green Beefy T sure to make me look Beefy. After: Bitchin Irene Cara-esque scarf with a truckload of unfinished seams for texture (and also for wearing more cotton scarves which I love without paying $18 here every time I want another one.)

Oh, and the whole reason I was posting was to quote from that wonderfully dorky tailoring book about why and how some of us have to change some things here and there from a standard pattern:

"Countours (where and how much your figure curves) may differ from those on the pattern. Your bust cup and seat shape, for example, may not coincide with the average contour used for patterns. Body contours can change over time as you mature. They are also affected by diet, exercise, and undergarments."

I always knew my panties were messing me up.